National Geographic, May, 1968
one of several sons and his wife and children
-in the comfortable parlor of their farm
house. The son's wife served tall glasses of
chilled sour milk and a platter of freshly
baked Karjalanpiirakka, the delicious Kare
lian hot rolls with centers of cooked rice or
mashed potatoes.
We talked awhile of commonplace things,
of spring planting and of farming methods
in the United States. Inevitably, conversation
turned to the lost area of Karelia and the dif
ferences in life on the two farms. Mr. Hasunen
smiled in a kindly way but remained silent,
and his son spoke instead.
"My sister and I are old enough to remem
ber Ruskeala well," he said. "The farm there
was good, but this one is better; we have more
cleared land for crops and livestock. Our chil
dren are happy here, for it is truly their home."
He glanced at his wife. "One can scarcely
ask for more."
At the mention of Ruskeala, the older Mrs.
Hasunen frowned. "I wish not to see it again,"
she said, sadly. "The Russians have made it
their own; we would have no place there.
Better to live here, and to forget.
"But my husband," she added, affection
ately, turning to him and taking his hand,
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